Nick Moen's "The Crane"

A chill creeped up my spine as I stepped out the door by the loading dock during my morning break of glaze calc.  Instead of my ears, my eyes were heavy from listening to the lecture for 2 hours.  At 10:15 the sun had made its way across the sky and was casting a huge shadow on the ominous crane that was operating outside of Binns.  The men were motioning to each other, attempting to guide this behemoth away from destruction.  The taste of oolong lingered in my mouth from my morning tea, especially since i took a sip of the dregs surrounding the open leaves.  Fortunately the tea left a sweet taste on my tongue.  Unfortunately that sweet taste became covered by a heavy dark tobacco as I took the first drag of my cigarette.  The construction was loud, no anomaly there.  The sound of heavy machinery hummed with intermittent yells from the workers hopefully concerned with safety.  There seemed to be a lot of lolly-gagging by the workers on the ground.  Maybe it was that time of morning.  My nose was flooded with cool air which got stuck in a thick mucus which tends to hinder my sense of smell this time of year.  My hands were cold, so cold that one stayed in my pocket while the other gripped the butt with the sleeve up past my thumb.  It would have been more pleasant had the sun been out.